A/N: Wow! Sorry it took so long for the next chapter. I hope this is satisfactory, and you know you MUST leave a review on the way out to tell me what you think!

Disclaimer: Not mine.

A/N 2: It's almost done now, I promise, hehe! Mwah!

Chapter Seven: Enemy Territory

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I wonder how long it'll take before we collapse, Dean thought, not so much pessimist as curious. He waited with barely concealed impatience for Sam to catch up. He took in his brother's pale, moon-like face with concern, noting the fog that seemed to have fallen over his eyes.

"You okay there, kiddo?" Dean barked, pushing his way through another cluster of trees. They'd been walking for an hour following the faded footprints and signs of the were-woman.

"We almost there?" Sam panted, altogether out of breath. He was finding it hard to focus, and more than once found himself wondering what he was doing with a gun in his hand.

"Dunno." Dean was brusque, trying to focus more on the job ahead than on their quickly tiring muscles. Wonder how much blood we lost. I hope Sam can wait to pass out until after we kick those werewolves' hairy asses.

Dean found it hard to bring humor into this situation. Maybe it was his protesting limbs, or maybe his confidence was just giving out. They could have had second helpings of Daddy Winchester by now.

"God DAMN it!" Dean shouted, kicking out at a tree stump in anger.

"Motherfucker!"

Sam jumped back, his senses assaulted by the unexpected onslaught from his usually "chill" brother. He had never seen Dean give away his emotions so blatantly before.

"Dean…" he said timidly, wondering if maybe there was something on the ground ahead of Dean that he hadn't seen yet. Or maybe he just stubbed his toe.

Dean turned around, running his hands through his hair in an expression of obvious frustration.

"We're running out of time!"

Sam had no good response to this. "I'm sorry I'm slowing you down…"

"No, you idiot, it's not you! Not everything is about you! It's Dad!"

Sam looked puzzled. "It's Dad's fault?"

"I just don't know anymore," Dean sat on the tree stump, looking distraught. "We're wasting time sitting here talking about this shit when who knows what could be happening to Dad now?"

"He can take care of himself until we get there, Dean, they might not even have him yet," Sam wasn't sure if he believed his own words, but needed Dean to believe. For both their sakes.

It was then that Dean spotted something that made his heart race. What luck.

"Sammy. Check it out." Dean pointed behind Sam, into a large bush covering the floor of the forest. In it, Sam could see a distinct shimmer.

Dean stood up, walking around his brother. Bending down, he cautiously prodded the thing underneath the leaves.

"I don't think it's gonna bite, Dean," Sam chuckled as Dean sent a nasty glare his way.

Sam's chuckle turned into a cough as Dean lifted the object from its entangled position. Grimly, he held it up for a better view.

"It's Dad's cell," Dean shook his head. Another clue. This mean we're getting closer or something?

"How—how do you know it's Dad's?" Sam stuttered. "It could be anyone's, I mean, this used to be a popular hiking place…"

Dean flipped out his own cellphone, and pressed speed dial number one. The partially destroyed cell phone emitted a bleak beep, and Dean shut his phone and examined his father's. It was scratched and damaged and covered with sticky sap, yet there was only a small portion of blood on it. Well, at least it's not dripping red.

"Does this mean we're getting closer?" Sam queried, asking what Dean had been thinking all along.

"I don't know, Sammy." I don't know anything.

"Dean,"

"What?" Dean was still examining the phone, as if it would transmit an answer into his head.

"Dean."

"WHAT?" Dean looked up to see his brother looking slightly paler than usual. He looked in the direction Sam was looking.

"Is that werewolf blood?" Sam pointed, already moving towards the location. Dean followed, cellphone still in hand.

"Yeah," Dean eyed the silvery substance coating the trunk of a tree. Turning, Dean ran a glance around the area. And he saw something he had missed before.

"Sam, what do these look like to you?" Dean walked over to a tree across the way and squatted down next to it, pointing at some holes in the bottom of the trunk near the roots.

"Are those—"

"Bullet holes."

"But they don't have to be Dad's."

Carefully, Dean reached into the leaves surrounding the base of the tree and sifted through the mess until he found what he was looking for.

"A silver bullet," Sam's mouth dropped. He eyed his surroundings with the practiced eye of a young hunter. "Dad already had a run-in with the werewolves."

"And it looks like it was right here," Dean finished the thought in his brother's head with a tone of finality. "So we followed the were-chick's trail up to here, and we find Dad's cell, Dad's silver bullets, and blood from a werewolf."

"So he hit his target?"

"Maybe this is where he pissed off the leader dude,"

"And the woman got in the way, so they shot her with Dad's gun,"

The brothers were silent for a moment, contemplating this scenario. Now I get why the leaves are all over. There was a fight here, Dean thought. It all made sense to him, but there was still one question he needed an answer to.

"Where do you think we can find the Yaswan dude? Because I have a feeling that he would know where Dad is,"

"Or, Dad would be looking for him—"

"So either way we'll find Dad there."

Dean lapsed into thought for a minute, as Sam picked his brain for any useless information that would help them here.

"Do you think we could follow the blood trail?" Sam asked. Dean gave him a signature you're-an-idiot look, followed with a sarcastic comment.

"Yeah, because his blood is just lying around for us to follow like freaking breadcrumbs,"

"Well, he was bleeding, wasn't he? And I'm sure that after Dad realized he was out of ammo or outnumbered or whatever, he left. So the werewolves took whatever he left behind, because he was probably in a hurry to get out, and they rushed their leader back to their place to help him because I doubt they were carrying gauze with them,"

Dean massaged his temples. "Hold the phone. How do you know there was more than one werewolf when we found one smear of blood?"

"Dad wouldn't make more than one shot for one werewolf, would he? He's a good shot, we know that. So he was probably distracted by others,"

Plausible, Dean thought. Actually, highly probable. "You're freaky, you know that?"

"What?"

"You just pull this shit outta thin air. Nevermind, it's all we got now. So, any ideas on how to find this pack of motherf—"

Dean was interrupted in his soliloquy by a bloodthirsty howl that seemed to come from every direction all at once. Panicking, Sam moved in closer to his brother, holding the gun in front of him. Dean covered Sam's back, moving his own weapon around in the dark as he fumbled his fingers around in his pockets for his flashlight. Damnit!

Neither dared to make a sound. We're in enemy territory, Dean thought. One thing he knew for sure is that werewolves were very territorial creatures. Come on, bitches, let's see what you got.

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Elsewhere, at the very moment that the cry of the wolf was heard, a man stumbled out of the clearing he had been passing through. What was left of his clothing was shredded and crusty with blood, and his face was a mess of bruises and blood. The man was breathing heavily, and with each breath came a rasping sound that most likely meant a punctured lung from broken ribs. His legs were barely supporting his weight and he leaned heavily on the lone rifle that he carried. He knew that he didn't have long to find the leader of the pack and finish him off before the pack found him.

I hope the boys didn't come after me, was John Winchester's last hope before he staggered through the woods in the direction the howl came from.

I hope they're safe.

Dun dun dun….okay, now you have to review!